


all i want for christmas is you

by cg_lurks (cg_reads), ImagineTheHaus



Series: ITH Holiday Special 2k16 [20]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5 days to Haus Christmas, M/M, and then they kiss and date and fall in love, bitty may join the SMH...to meet Jack, everyone lives happily ever after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 11:15:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9069184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cg_reads/pseuds/cg_lurks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineTheHaus/pseuds/ImagineTheHaus
Summary: Imagine Ransom or Holster confessing their love for the other through Christmas songs!





	

From Holtzy:  
 **Ransypoo!  
**

**Test prep fetal a success???**

**How’d you do??**

Justin abandons his typical post-assessment recap and critique to instead grin down at his phone. He’s not ashamed to say that this has grown into a habit over the last three weeks. 

Since Thanksgiving.

To Holtzy:  
 _1.) Let me apologize again about the Finals Freak-Out Fetal  
2.) Pretty sure the Ex-Cram-Straganza (sp???) was a success!_

_I’m pretty sure I aced that!_

From Holtzy:

[Originally posted by putalit](https://tmblr.co/Z2cnSi2AhS5UC)

**Nice!**

**I knew you’d kill it, Ransy**

**Also, I’m pretty sure your Finals Freak-Out Fetal is your brain going Super Saiyan – so absolutely no need to apologize**

**Seriously**

And Justin is just all out of Can™. He absolutely Cannot™ because –

  1. Adam Birkholtz is a sweetheart:  
Justin’s roommate, Bitty, has assured him of _just_  how traumatizing his Final’s Freak-Out can be to the unsuspecting 
  2. Justin can picture Holtzy doing the little dance he sent:  
 _Way_  hotter than it ought to be
  3. It’s gotta be way too soon dto feel like this boy could be his One:  
…..but……



* * *

“BITTY!”

Ransom flings the door open to their cramped on-campus apartment and flings his bag into a corner.

“Eric!”

There were certain situations (most) that required Bitty’s particular brand of advice – warm, understanding, and drenched in a Southern accent that projects wisdom beyond his years. 

“Bittle! I need you!” 

Justin throws himself onto the couch like a 1930s starlet. He listens as Bitty clearly tumbles from his bed, bangs something (he’s guessing a toe, given the resulting expletive) against his desk, before wrenching open his door.

“Oh Rans, did he freak out about the Freak-Out? Are you OK?”

“No!” Bitty gasps at that response. “No, he was perfect!”

“What the hell, Justin Oluransi! Why would you scare me like that?”

“Scare you! You think you’re scared? You’re not the one who has met a man so gracious –” 

“Yes, yes - he lets little old ladies in front of him when he drives.”

“– Or so smart –” Ransom continues, without acknowledgment of the interruption.

“Uh, huh, three syllable words.”

“But not just three syllable words – the plays he comes up with on the ice – the way he handles numbers!” 

“Justin, honey.” 

“I know what you’re going to say - this is a crush. I’m rushing in. Give it time. But –” Justin shakes his head and sits up, looking deeply into Bitty’s big brown eyes. “We’re past that point.”

Bitty sighs. “I’ll call Lardo.”

* * *

Larissa Duan, like the angel she is, arrives with alcohol and a more sympathetic ear.

“It makes sense really,” she says after listening to Ransom’s rant. “Like, I don’t know if I would have ever thought to pair you up, but I’ve never seen Holster so happy.”

 _Holy shit!_ If anyone (in this room) could speak on Holster’s happiness with any really meaning, it’s Lardo. As the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team Manager, she’s the best standing authority on the health and well-being. 

Ransom’s tried very hard not to think about the perpetually bad scheduling that had kept he and Bitty from meeting the SMH team before now. Lardo and Bitty had struck up a friendship when he approached her about using the rink for the intramural hockey league. There’d been a string of poorly timed quizzes, tests, practices and family visits that had kept either one of them from accepting her invitations to meet the team.

But none of that matters now. He’s met Holster, and he’s gonna tell him how he feels. He is!

“Honestly, Rans,” Lardo says, nudging him with her foot to make sure he’s paying attention. “I’d go big. Grand gesture. Holster’s the kind of guy who’s a quiet sweetheart, tries to make sure everyone else is having a good time or has what they need. He deserves something nice.”

“Ha!” Ransom laughs, pointing to Lardo. “Confirmation, Bitty. Adam Holster: Certified Sweetheart™!”

Bitty raises both hands in the air. “I concede. If Lardo’s vouching for him - well, let’s get planning.”

* * *

Ransom’s feet slide for a moment over the icy sidewalk before he finds his balance again.  

He curses quietly before rearranging the boombox in his hands. The aged boombox borrowed from the common room of the apartment complex. The one he’ll need to return unharmed when this is finished.

The boombox he’d explicitly been told not to use in his grand gesture.

The thing is, they’d been getting nowhere in their plans. Lardo was all for a grand gesture but had _no_  idea what it should consist of. Bitty was full of ideas, but most of them involved baking – and while that was nice, Ransom didn’t have time to bake. He didn’t have time for research.

In 72 hours he and Holster would be heading home. And while they got to spend most of the drive trailing each other, there was another hour and a half separating them. There was no way in hell that Ransom was waiting until after the break to tell him. 

He’d left Bitty and Lardo tipsy and sleeping on the couch.

The snow piled on the Haus lawn is deep – deep enough to sneak it’s way between his boots and pants leg. 

He shivers, but moves forward so he’s perfectly placed to be seen from the attic window, scooping up a handful of snow before setting the boombox on his shoulder.

With one last deep breath, he lobs his snowball, loosely packed, but efficient, at the Haus attic and presses play on the stereo.

Mariah Carey’s voice comes blaring through the speakers.

_I don’t want a lot for Christmas  
_ _There is just one thing I need  
_ _I don’t care about the presents  
_ _Underneath the Christmas tree_

_  
_ _I just want you for my own  
_ _More than you could ever know  
_ _Make my wish come true  
_ _All I want for Christmas is you, yeah._

Cliche?

Yes.

Effective?

Holster’s light flicks on, and his blonde head, adorably ruffled by sleep and gorgeously bespectacled, appears in the window. A slow smile spreads across his face as he works the window up.

“Ransykins?”

Justin turns the music down a bit, so he can speak.

“Adam Holster Birkholtz –”

“That’s not my middle name.”

“Don’t interrupt me, bro.”

Holster laughs, but nods, resting his heads on his arms, bright eyes fully focused on Ransom.

“Adam Holster Birkholtz, three weeks ago, you invited me into your car, and into your life.”

“That…..that sounds bad.”

“Kinda like a kidnapping.”

Two more faces have appeared outside of windows below the Holster’s. There’s an impressive mustache and someone wrapped in what can only be the scarf of an unapologetic hipster.

“Oh shit,” mustache says, “is that Justin! Nursey, chill!”

“I’m literally always chill.”

“Guys,” Holster says and both voices fall silent. “Go ahead, Rans.”

Justin clears his throat, looks at his unintended audience and then back up at Holster.

_Fuck it._

“Holtzy, I want to date the hell out of you.”

Justin completely understands Romeo in this moment. Holster’s smile could certainly outshine any sun. Justin’s pretty sure he’s found his new east.

“Yeah, bro, of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> We are always accepting new prompts at our [tumblr](https://imaginethehaus.tumblr.com) account, so feel free to drop by with a little headcanon or ask.


End file.
